


emerging

by aPaperCupCut



Series: misc uncompleted fics [2]
Category: The Matrix (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Uncompleted, just an interesting one shot, mentions of gross bodily processes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 18:11:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19481281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aPaperCupCut/pseuds/aPaperCupCut
Summary: actually brainstormed, what, a dozen?, yeah, dozen different fic ideas with my sibling when we marathoned the matrix movies last year. this was the only on to even be half written, but if you must know, all of them were of varying agent smith/agent smith content. there was even a coffee shop au we conceived...but eh, this idea was the one that really caught my interest. a whole redemption-type-thing where agent smith figures out how human body chemical things tend to really fuck up logical processes. ah well.if anybody wants, ill write a little bit of that coffee au thoalso, no formatting 4 u(but, ok,imagine this with a bunch of agent smiths)





	emerging

Doing it was a mistake. Of course, many would counter such a statement with the belief that there  _ are no mistakes, _ but Smith - no longer  _ Agent, _ but still Smith regardless - cares not for faith. And he has no faith, so he can face his actions and claim them as the mistakes they are, correct?

He truly did make a mistake, by assimilating that human. By taking a step forward, by picking up that phone; from that first moment, doused in a chill he cannot describe because he had never experienced such a…  _ sensation _ before, from that first stuttered gasp for dusty, ashen air. Smith hates it,  _ despises _ it, that moment the flesh entrapping him makes its needs known - its filthy, pathetic  _ needs _ . Breathing - it's not something he's used to. He endeavors not to get used to it.

It is fortunate that the man, whom he oh-so carelessly chose with a hand of silver, is a pariah among his peers. No words spoken to him, as he struggled awake, simply hurrying to attend to the empty carcasses left behind by Smith. He coughs, and writhes, and refuses to acknowledge that he did so. Smith is ignored, and he can only assume the previous owner was disliked and thusly treated with indifference. Did it matter why? No, it made it easier, by a great deal.

He is left alone.

Smith almost dies, within that first week. Humiliating, a pitiful display - and he cannot excuse nor defend himself. The brain, a lump of flesh, misfiring neurons and entire chunks of vital organ turned dead, scarred and grey as his processes attempt to continue. But he is not numbers. He is not code.

It was a mistake, coming here. He still knows it was necessary - the rest of him would follow, quite shortly, if his rate of assimilation of the Matrix continues onward as it has been. He would rejoin, soon enough. But soon enough is not  _ now, _ and he nearly pays with his life for the simple act of ignorance of biology.

He should've known. He must've known before he was dragged into this stinking world, this stinking sack of flesh and pumping blood. But he clearly does not know, not until he is bedridden, unable to move, unable to speak; vomit crusting his face, urine soaked around his legs. Sweat and filth and flies, and no one even cares to approach him - in his delirious, flashing thoughts, he can find only pity for the poor bastard. Of course, said bastard is very much dead, and thus cannot care for whatever pity a program could give him.

It hits him, the realisation as to  _ why _ he cannot move, can no longer lift his hands nor his head, when the flaring, panicked during of nerves communicating binary words to each other are stifled by blank confusion. He can no longer hear himself  _ think, _ and he is shaken by the silence so badly that he fumbles with a knife left at his bed side table, cutting himself deeply. And then he hears--

**Author's Note:**

> actually brainstormed, what, a dozen?, yeah, dozen different fic ideas with my sibling when we marathoned the matrix movies last year. this was the only on to even be half written, but if you must know, all of them were of varying agent smith/agent smith content. there was even a coffee shop au we conceived...
> 
> but eh, this idea was the one that really caught my interest. a whole redemption-type-thing where agent smith figures out how human body chemical things tend to really fuck up logical processes. ah well.
> 
> if anybody wants, ill write a little bit of that coffee au tho
> 
> also, no formatting 4 u
> 
> (but, ok, [imagine this with a bunch of agent smiths](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1WAlkyxz2mU))


End file.
